Ludovico now opened the door of the bed-room, and the Count, as he
entered, was struck with the funereal appearance, which the dark arras
gave to it. He approached the bed, with an emotion of solemnity, and,
perceiving it to be covered with the pall of black velvet, paused; 'What
can this mean?' said he, as he gazed upon it.
'I have heard, my Lord,' said Ludovico, as he stood at the feet, looking
within the canopied curtains, 'that the Lady Marchioness de Villeroi
died in this chamber, and remained here till she was removed to be
buried; and this, perhaps, Signor, may account for the pall.'
The Count made no reply, but stood for a few moments engaged in thought,
and evidently much affected. Then, turning to Ludovico, he asked him
with a serious air, whether he thought his courage would support him
through the night? 'If you doubt this,' added the Count, 'do not be
ashamed to own it; I will release you from your engagement, without
exposing you to the triumphs of your fellow-servants.'
Ludovico paused; pride, and something very like fear, seemed struggling
in his breast; pride, however, was victorious;--he blushed, and his
hesitation ceased. 'No, my Lord,' said he, 'I will go through with what I have begun; and
I am grateful for your consideration. On that hearth I will make a fire,
and, with the good cheer in this basket, I doubt not I shall do well.'
'Be it so,' said the Count; 'but how will you beguile the tediousness of
the night, if you do not sleep?' 'When I am weary, my Lord,' replied Ludovico, 'I shall not fear to
sleep; in the meanwhile, I have a book, that will entertain me.'
'Well,' said the Count, 'I hope nothing will disturb you; but if you
should be seriously alarmed in the night, come to my apartment. I have
too much confidence in your good sense and courage, to believe you will
be alarmed on slight grounds; or suffer the gloom of this chamber, or
its remote situation, to overcome you with ideal terrors. To-morrow, I
shall have to thank you for an important service; these rooms shall then
be thrown open, and my people will be convinced of their error. Good
night, Ludovico; let me see you early in the morning, and remember what
I lately said to you.' 'I will, my Lord; good night to your excellenza; let me attend you with
the light.'
He lighted the Count and Henri through the chambers to the outer door;
on the landing-place stood a lamp, which one of the affrighted servants
had left, and Henri, as he took it up, again bade Ludovico good night,
who, having respectfully returned the wish, closed the door upon them,
and fastened it. Then, as he retired to the bed-chamber, he examined the
rooms, through which he passed, with more minuteness than he had done
before, for he apprehended, that some person might have concealed
himself in them, for the purpose of frightening him. No one, however,
but himself, was in these chambers, and, leaving open the doors,
through which he passed, he came again to the great drawing-room, whose
spaciousness and silent gloom somewhat awed him. For a moment he stood,
looking back through the long suite of rooms he had quitted, and, as he
turned, perceiving a light and his own figure, reflected in one of the
large mirrors, he started. Other objects too were seen obscurely on its
dark surface, but he paused not to examine them, and returned hastily
into the bed-room, as he surveyed which, he observed the door of the
oriel, and opened it.